


Bloodline

by DreamChaser123



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Again -clexa endgame (ya'll can chill), Angst with a Happy Ending, Clexa Family- Clarke is pregnant with 'Lexa's' Baby, Clexa with a spin, Crazy sexual tension and Power play, Dark and Twisty - You've been warned!, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Mild Clarke/Roan interaction, Non-Consensual Sexual Activity, Read if: you enjoy being tormented and surprised (and slightly pissed off), Rough Sex, Welp-Enjoy!, YES- CLEXA ENDGAME!, no one dies (yet)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamChaser123/pseuds/DreamChaser123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future of Lexa’s reign is in jeopardy as war looms over Polis, initiated by the feared and power-hungry Queen Nia of Azgeda.</p><p>Clarke has a simple solution to secure Lexa’s hold over the throne while attaining a dream of her own- conceiving a child to succeed their beloved Commander and unite the warring nations.</p><p>The only problem is convincing Lexa, her overprotective and stubborn lover, that she needs a pawn in this game of minds; one simple variable in the equation to achieve what they both want- a suitable candidate to impregnate Clarke. </p><p>A cocktail of deception and love. But can Lexa sacrifice her love for the future of her kingdom?</p><p> <br/>**It's a Clexa story with a slight twist**<br/>**Had to reword the summary to apply more to a general story instead of just the one-shot it was originally meant for**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Game of Thrones

**Author's Note:**

> Story starts off slightly misleading (twist at the end!)
> 
> Was originally a one-shot but decided to add a few more chapters to it (still not sure how many, will depend on feedback :))
> 
> Kudos/Comments appreciated in order to determine the future of the story. Thanks!

“You summon me at a questionable hour, Commander,” Roan inquired, slowly rising from his bow in Lexa’s direction, eyes diverting to an observing Clarke poised a few feet from her throne, “as if I have a choice in the matter.”

“One always has a choice, Prince of Azgeda.” Lexa raised an eyebrow, lips tight and reserved as her eyes roamed over the sharp blade in her hand, metal glistening against the weaning moonlight. “You are simply unfortunate to continuously stumble upon the wrong ones."

Clarke smirked at the boisterous comment, posture still unyielding, urging a snarl from the confused warrior.

“And _what_ wrongful turn have I unwillingly found myself treading this time?” He wondered, patience thinning.

“I have a proposition for you.” Lexa spoke, plunging the blade into the wooden armrest of her throne. “A proposition that I believe you will not be able to decline.”

Roan perked up at the mention of a deal; at the delirious ensembles of jumbled promises that invaded his mind. “I’m listening.”

Lexa’s gaze traveled to where Clarke stood in statue-like discipline; her presence momentary forgotten by the prince. She nodded once to the blonde as their eyes met, and Roan unconsciously pondered what message was transmitted there, but the thought soon evaporated as Clarke stepped forward, pausing only a few inches before the prince.

Lexa watched curiously as Roan cautiously scrutinized Clarke’s close proximity, breath slightly hitching as his eyes scanned the length of her body. “I am not ignorant of your desires for Clarke."

The statement immediately regained his attention. His eyes snapped forward once again, locking with the steeled green that lay hooded under a shadow of paint. “Blasphemy!” His anger was spilling forth, raging from just beneath his lungs. “I have _NEVER_ -“

“I am not accusing you of any crime, Prince.” Lexa comforted him, tone gentle yet menacing, a skill frequently used by the Commander to transmit subtle reign over her questionable subjects. “It is merely an observation of your rather _obvious_ yearning whenever she’s in your presence.” His nostrils flared either in fear or anger, Lexa wasn’t sure which. “Be at ease. Clarke shares your same sentiments. It would seem she equally... craves you.”

His gaze shifted to Clarke, who grinned bashfully up at him, fully aware of his increased discomfort. She bit her lower lip teasingly, eyes absorbing the Prince’s form fully, gaze lingering on the very curious swell suddenly more apparent in between his thighs.

“She’s at your mercy for the night.” Lexa finalized, causing the prince to clench his jaw and eyes to widen in disbelief at the Commander’s baffling proposition. Clarke confirmed the proposition was not a temporary moment of insanity by dragging her tongue across her lips, unshaken by her lover’s bargain.

“And at what cost, might I ask?” He pressed, more curious than serious at the moment; fully prepared to defy whatever possessed spirit dwelled in the Commander.

“Consider this a gesture of goodwill, if you may.” She explained. “However, make no error here, Prince. This exchange is solely for Clarke’s benefit, not yours. Although I’m certain you will correspondingly gain from it as well.”

Roan looked upon the flirtatious blonde with ravenous eyes. Clarke smirked, taunting him into action.

“What gives you pause, Prince Roan?” Lexa inquired, tone strict and condemning. “Are you refusing my offer?”

“How am I to be certain this is not some hoax?” He questioned, tone equally harsh, eyes briefly leaving Clarke to challenge the Commander. “She is _your_ woman. Yet now you surrender her as a _gift_ to an enemy? I have my reasons for concern.”

“It is not a trick, Roan.” Lexa confirmed. “This arrangement is Clarke’s wishes. _Her_ request. You have my word that no ill will befall you from accepting.”

Roan glanced back towards the blonde. Clarke stood in the center of the room, posture still confident and regal, eyes fixed on the Prince, secretly challenging him to engage. She grinned seductively at him as they locked eyes once again. “The Commander speaks true, Roan.” She spoke softly, finally breaking her silence after the tense engagement. “This was my idea. A show of good faith between our warring people."

He scoffed. “You offering to warm my bed for a night is how you plan on achieving that?” He mocked, eyes now equally flirtatious. “My _freedom_ would have been enough to quell the war.”

“And we would have lost our leverage against the Ice Nation had we done that.” Clarke replied, a smile suddenly reforming on her thin lips. “You can either accept my offer or return to your cell. The choice is yours.”

Roan remained silent and still; gauging his surroundings. He looked from the blonde to her Commander, searching for any signs of deception; any falter in their stoic expressions would have satisfied his instinct to decline. Yet he received no indication from either woman.

“I have your word?” He relented a little, looking to Lexa as he spoke.

“You have my word.” She nodded once in confirmation.

He looked back to the eerily calm blonde, quickly returning his gaze to Lexa once more. “It is not in my nature to be gentle.” He spoke huskily, urging a sharp exhale out of Clarke who fully grasped his meaning.

Lexa stiffened in her seat, tightening her grasp on the wooden hilt of her dagger. “We expect nothing less from an Ice Nation Prince.” She responded, tone indifferent, mask intact and unwavering. “You are free to advance as you wish. I have only one request.” She paused. Roan lifted a single brow in her direction, pressing her to continue. “You will take her in my presence.”

That statement elicited a smirk out of the Prince. “You wish to watch.” Roan confirmed, eyes suddenly heavy with passion. “Are you certain you wish to witness as I ravage your sky _whore_?” The assertion was bold and defiant, that much he knew. Yet he could not resist the urge to prompt; to elicit a reaction from the stone-faced woman whose eyes bore through him and into his soul.

It had a semi-desired effect, causing a needy whimper to fall from Clarke’s lips, revealing just how impatient she was. Lexa however, simply shifted uncomfortably in her throne, expressionless, as if the gods themselves sculpted the scold she adorned as a guise. “The only thing I’m currently witnessing is your incredible lack of action.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Roan moved forward, rounding Clarke, eyes absorbing every curve and exposed skin selflessly conceded to him. She wore a dress weaved out of dark silk, which complemented the fine jewels draped around her neck and wrists. The ornaments served as a demonstration of superiority and power, endowed on her by Lexa, and it equally served as a warning to inquiring eyes as to _whom_ was currently bedding Clarke.

Standing before the blonde once more, he met her gaze with curiosity, receiving a look that quickly transformed into an inaudible dare. He placed a hand on either side of her hips and spun her, observing as the two women made eye contact before continuing with a chaste kiss against her exposed shoulder. Clarke sighed in relief, the sensation of being touched quickly overwhelming her.

Roan allowed his hands to move more aggressively over the curvaceous form, groping and grabbing every inch of skin his fingers could latch onto. He observed Lexa’s reaction when he squeezed Clarke’s tender breasts through the dress, earning a moan from the blonde and a gulp from the attentive brunette. He smirked.

“Would you like to join, _Heda_?” He questioned, tone low and mischievous, head tilting slightly to the side. “There’s no shame in also enjoying the company of men from time to time.”

“Careful, Roan.” She replied, eyes still glued to Clarke, who had her head thrown back against Roan’s shoulder, jaw wide open in silent moans as his hands massaged the perky mounds. “You’d be wise to remember who is in charge here.”

He bowed in a playful show of respect, and moved his attention back to the blonde. He slipped the thin straps from Clarke’s shoulders and allowed the material to fall around her ankles, immediately leaving Clarke fully bare and exposed to Lexa’s possessive stares and Roan’s exploring hands.

He wasted no time after that. Weaving a hand through her golden braids, he tugged her head further back towards him, snaking his other hand down her toned stomach, through the wild, moist patch of fuzz in between her thighs, and parted her folds with two fingers. He ran his palm over the drenched slit, causing Clarke’s hips to buck and a moan to escape her throat.

“Good girl.” He rasped into her ear, loud enough to ensure Lexa also heard. “You’re ready for me.”

Lexa remained silent and still, watching the scene before her. True, she had been preparing herself mentally for this moment, since she first heard it be uttered from the soft lips she was so addicted to. Yet the countless images she had mashed up in her restless mind were exceedingly mild compared to this. Just the manner in which he looked upon Clarke, with greedy and dangerous eyes as if apologizing for the pain he was about to inflict on her body, was enough reason to have him executed by a thousand cuts; and that would be a mercy considering how he’s touching her now. Lexa felt as bile and rage simmered within the pit of her stomach; a fury so intense she believed capable of spitting fire and torching the man alive. The impulse to hurl her blade into the bastard’s eye was a temptation she commanded herself to stiffen, suppressing the growing surge that clashed over her with every movement of his hands against the porcelain skin that belonged to _her_. The lips he currently nibbled on, the flesh he squeezed and marked, the surely sopping cunt he roughly rubbed, were all reserved for her and _her_ only, yet the prince seized it as if it was a birthright. Years of commanding and training temporarily held her weakening façade intact, forcing herself to remain as cold and rigid as the blade she dotingly caressed.

“Roan…” Clarke moaned out, lips trembling in need as she spoke. “Stop teasing!”

He ignored her, fingers moving faster around the sensitive nub, feeling more and more wetness pool around the clenching entrance. “Roan!” Clarke pressed, frustrated to the point of anger. “I _swear_ if y-“

Without warning, he pushed two fingers through the tight channel, relishing how the slick walls hungrily engulfed his digits. Clarke felt every muscle in her body constrict, toes curling into the furs below and arms wrapping backwards around Roan’s neck. “ _Fuck_!” She yelped, the unexpected invasion shooting a bolt of pain through her body. “Shit!” She continued shouting profanities as the pain began to dissipate into pleasure, her body slowly adjusting to fingers exponentially larger than the slender, gentler ones she was used to. Roan continued crudely plunging into the blonde, eyes shifting form Clarke to Lexa from time to time, forcing himself to bite his tongue at the opportunity to goad the Commander.

“She’s pretty good at taking it.” He addressed Lexa, unable to dismiss the chance to boast. “You’ve trained her well. I wonder if she’s just as good on her knees…”

“She will _NOT_ kneel for you! Try it and I will end your miserable fight!” She snarled at him, body coiled and ready to spring forward.

He responded with a forceful thrust that resulted in a guttural moan out of Clarke, quickly silencing the heated commander. Roan merely smirked and continued his ministrations. Incapable of containing his own desire any longer, he removed his fingers from her warmth, aweing at the glistening wetness that coated his hand down to his wrist. He had Lexa’s full attention then, gaze fixed on his hand, as he painted the evidence of Clarke’s pleasure across her whimpering lips.

“Suck it clean, Princess.” He ordered, fingers pressing into her mouth. She quickly obeyed, wrapping her lips around the digits, lapping up at her own sweetness. He watched as Lexa’s own lips parted slightly in want; in need to taste Clarke’s juices.

Urge rapidly escalating, he slipped an arm around Clarke’s waist and lifted her. He then turned her midair to face him and slammed her down on her back onto the furs decorating the floor of the room, kneeling in between her spread thighs. Clarke smirked up at him.

“Maybe you’re not so incompetent after all.” She admitted, hand running up his front, still fully dressed whereas she was spread before him completely on display. “Take it off.”

He stood and began removing his garments, lifting his shirt off slowly to reveal tight, sculpted abs and muscular biceps to the intrigued set of eyes. Once he discarded his pants, both blue and green orbs zoned into the stiff, fully erect shaft that sprung free, both sets of eyes widening simultaneously at the revelation. Clarke moaned at the sight, mind launching into overdrive at the thought of the impressively large shaft sliding into her. Lexa’s breathing quickened slightly, jealousy gnawing at her, wishing she could be the one to mount the blonde and penetrate her as deeply as Roan was prepared to. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and against her inner protests, she nodded, granting him permission to proceed.

He sunk to his knees once again between Clarke’s parted thighs, which opened to full extent as he shifted his center closer to hers. He then positioned a hand next to her head for support while the other grasped his member, dipping it into the overflowing wetness, placing the head against her entrance and withdrawing. “Roan…” She whined, speech suddenly difficult to muster.

“I want you to beg.” He ordered, hand moving from its place by her head to her outstretched neck, fingers contracting around her throat.

“Wanheda begs to no one.” Lexa interrupted, eyes glaring at him for making such a ludicrous request, anger spilling out of her quivering lips.

“Oh, but she spreads herself to them? Gives herself for their _pleasure_?” He met Lexa’s stare, smirking at the infuriated brunette.

“How DARE Y-“

“Please…” It came out a breathy whisper, causing the Prince and the Commander’s gaze to detach from one another and shift to where Clarke writhed desperately beneath Roan. “Please, Roan.” She placed a hand on his chest, letting her nails dig into the taut muscle. “Fuck me. Please… I need you inside.”

He lifted his gaze to the dumbfounded commander, a grin tugging at his lips in silent mockery of her earlier statement and without much ceremony, thrust harshly into the blonde, burying himself to the hilt in one move, feeling the encouraging contractions pulling him in deeper. Clarke screamed, back arching off the furs, grip tightening into his wild locks. Her moan was deep and loud, surely overheard by all who surrounded the Commander’s quarters. She tried ignoring the pain that seared through her core and dispersed to every corner of her body, instantly aware of how truly massive Roan was and how unprepared she was to received it. She bit down on her bottom lip to suppress the urge pull away.

Lexa was momentarily tempted to look away; to avoid having the image of her girlfriend (whom she so deeply and unequivocally loved, fucked by a man she would have no issues beheading if need be) embedded in her mind. Yet she fought that impulse, and watched as Clarke’s cries filled the room the moment he plunged inside, surely tearing her apart at the roughness he exuded, an act to claim what he could while provoking Lexa. She inhaled deeply at the not-so-subtle display of power, storing the ire away as motivation for a future time.

Roan was instantly feral; thrusting deeply into Clarke, hands gripping her thighs and breasts firmly, leaving marks and bruises scattered across her creamy skin. He pulled back and out after a few moments, once he felt the walls clench around his cock in desperation, causing an immediate protest out of Clarke.

“Son of a _bitch_!” She yelled, tugging him closer in an attempt to get him to continue. When he refused, she wrapped a leg around his torso and pushed, flipping them so that now she was on top straddling his waist. Lexa cleared her throat loudly, clearly a cover to suppress the moan that boiled deep inside her chest at her lover’s expert move. Clarke looked at her, smirk plastered on her blushing face as she guiding her hips back and down towards Roan, taking him in fully. Their eyes remained fixed on one another as she rode the prince to submission, grinding her ass and pelvis with purpose against him as her need grew in intensity. Roan allowed it, enjoying the weight of Clarke’s body as it settled flush against him, feeling himself penetrate deeper into her velvet heat. His hands fondled her bouncing breasts, twirling her nipples in between his fingers. He leaned forward and took one in his mouth, sucking it in deeply and then clenching his jaw around it, drawing blood from the pink nub. Clarke gasped, reveling as the pain mingled with the pleasure, urging her to move faster.

Roan grew tired of their position soon after and lifted the blonde off of him once again, placing her on her hands and knees and positioning himself behind her. He tugged her head back, causing her spine to curve downwards and her eyes to lock with the Commander’s once more, before ramming it into her from behind.

Lexa observed intently. Eyes shifting from Clarke to the Prince and back, analyzing the expressions on both faces. Clarke’s eyes were firmly shut, mouth open in a perfect O as she gasped for air after each moan, teeth occasionally sinking into her plump, bottom lip. Roan remained smug and confident. His face embellishing a haughty grin as he pushed himself in and out of Clarke, eyes hooded and pupils dilated to full extent from lust. He was silent and focused, every thrust appearing to be calculated and deliberate. He pressed his palm flat against Clarke’s shoulder blade, motioning her forward, bending her until her cheek rested against the furs.

He was close to the edge himself. Clarke became instantly aware as his movements became more frenzied and sporadic. He pressed himself down onto her, pinning her down with the weight of his muscular body. She yelped as he roughly bit her shoulder, a demonstration of possession and conquest. Lexa snarled at the daring act, a warning to thwart Roan from further inappropriate claims, but he was too immersed in the deed to care.

Clarke pushed back against him, and once she had enough space, she agilely rolled onto her back; quickly guiding his hips back into her wet, warm core. Roan let out a grunt and snapped his eyes shut as a wave of pleasure began to course through him. He started to withdraw from the silky warmth, ignoring as the blonde dug her nails into his thighs, urging him deeper inside. He was close, the explosion imminent.

“Don’t.” The single word spoken sounded unexpectedly close, luring him back from his momentary surge of pleasure. A second later he felt sharp metal press against his throat, causing a shiver to snake down his spine. A hand weaved through his braids and pulled back harshly. “Finish inside her.”

There it was. The treachery that brought both women to this point; to engage in this desperate affair. Clarke moved her hips against the Prince, swirling them enticingly. Roan let out a low chuckle, still held frozen in place by the Commander’s frigid blade. “I should have known.” He admitted, bewildered at his own lack of sense, his judgment clouded over by the lustful haze. “You just want a donor, isn’t that right, _Commander_? Some pawn to impregnate your _bitch_.” Lexa tugged his head back harder, rage seeping out of every pore, eyes now intercepting his.

“I need an _heir_ , Prince Roan. A successor!” She hissed, tone soothing yet threatening, fury clearly perceptible in her words. “You, out of all people, should understand the importance in that.”

“And _YOU_ think me fit as a candidate?” He replied, voice raspy and deep, pleasure cascading him over like waves as Clarke fucked herself in an effort to trigger his release. “And why should I oblige? Do you believe that I’d allow you to raise my kid?"

“ _MY_ child!” She corrected. “Do not forget that you still _breathe_ simply because I allow it. The moment I sense you unworthy of that, I will _end_ you. So,” Lexa spoke hurriedly into his ear, watching Clarke as she moved beneath the Prince, lips sucked into her mouth to suppress the moans pushing to escape, “the sooner we conclude this, the sooner I can consider lifting your banishment.”

Lexa took a step backwards to allow Roan space, keeping the knife still pressed against the throbbing artery in his neck. He grabbed Clarke’s swiveling hips and lifted them up slightly, sinking himself fully into her. She gasped and whimpered, throwing her head back in the overwhelming ecstasy reigniting in her lower belly. It didn’t take much longer after to get him to release, unloading fully into the blonde. Lexa urged him to withdraw slowly once he was done, ordering him to dress while still under threat of the blade. Clarke remained on the ground, where Lexa tossed fur over her nude body to sheathe her from Roan’s menacing eyes.

“Guards!” She shouted, and almost immediately the double doors swung open and two guards swarmed in. “Escort the Prince back to his cell. Provide him with fresh clothes and food. I want surveillance around his cage at all times!”

“Yes, Heda.” They bowed, each wrapping a hand around the Prince, and left. Roan bid farewell with a sneer, eyes narrowing at Lexa as he was towed away. As the doors finally shut, she thought she heard a faint whisper of a wicked promise leave his lips, instinctively raising the hairs at the nape of her neck.

“Lex…” Clarke whispered, voice exhausted from her throes of pleasure, pulling Lexa out of her trance.

“Hey - _shh_ \- I’m here.” She removed the fur, kneeling down to put an arm beneath her head and under her knees, lifting her. She moved effortlessly to their room, where she gently placed the weary blonde upon the bed. “What do you need? Tell me what you need, Clarke.”

“Just…water. And more furs. I’m cold.” Lexa smiled down at her, placing a chaste kiss on her swollen lips before leaving. She patiently waited for Clarke to settle back down into the bed after chugging down a bucket of water, before lying next to her.

She brushed back the blonde curls that stuck to her face and placed another soft kiss on her cheek. “That was difficult to watch, my love.” She admitted softly, tone revealing the hurt she fought to conceal. “He was far too rough; far too arrogant with you! I should have _NEVER_ agreed!”

“Oh, hush, Lexa.” Clarke spoke back, eyes closed as she relaxed under her Commander’s soft touches lulling her to sleep. “You’ve been far rougher with me than that. We talked about this. We agreed.” She opened her eyes then, icy blue meeting green, lips arching back in a smile. “Think of the baby.”

That comment, sincere and soothing, sucked away her breath. The sight of Clarke, so raw and beautiful, the genuineness and softness she witnessed in those fiery blue eyes as she spoke of a promise yet to fulfill, of a _family_ , caused her soul to stir and her heart to flare from happiness. She couldn’t contain the smile forming at her lips.

She leaned forward, kissing Clarke tenderly on the forehead. “All that matters is your happiness. That shall remain my vow to you.” She whispered, lips still pressed against the forehead, muffling her words.

When Clarke succumbed to sleep, Lexa moved away carefully as to not alert her. She gazed out of the tower’s window, overlooking the land and its waking citizens as the sun’s first light brimmed the horizon. Mind finally still; inner voices finally quelled, momentarily at least, permitted her a moment to indulge. She imagined a child, with golden hair and bright eyes. She imagined a child carrying her name but Clarke’s spirit, strength and wrath. She imagined a daughter or son to effortlessly lead armies, win battles, and end wars.

Before Clarke, she thought herself incapable of loving again. Instead now she finds herself in an unprecedented situation where she loves not one, but two people; the second still a faraway thought but firmly implanted in her heart just the same.

It's different. It's dangerous. It’s the perfect formula for disaster.

She smiled. _Fear be damned._


	2. The Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue with the story (I had to alter the description and some of the tags since they only applied to the first chapter when it was still only a one-shot).
> 
> I reallllyyyyy hope you like it!

The room vibrated from the clashing voices spoken in different accents and dialects. Men and women of power convened to offer opinions and suggestions to their one true leader. That leader currently sat on a throne weaved of branches of ancient trees and spears of past commanders that intertwined into one another, gazing inattentively at the audience, mind currently scavenging the depths of a bottomless pit in search of an answer. She found none.

“Heda, this is futile.” Titus spoke, head shaking in obvious certainty as to what the answer was, as if it was a clear choice all along. “The prince has broken our laws! He has committed crimes against you and your people! There is no doubt here. His fate is clear. Death to the prince of Azgeda!” He bellowed, a fist waving sternly before him for emphasis, spurring heads to nod in agreement and lips to whisper encouragements. Most every lip at least. One lonely pair remained firmly shut. Clenched into a tightness that removed all color from usually pink flesh. 

“Clarke?” Lexa looked to the blonde, who watched with wary eyes as the judgment unfolded. All eleven clan leaders gathered, directed by Lexa and Titus, and her of course. Unsurprisingly, all eleven supported the execution of Prince Roan, whom has been imprisoned under most appalling conditions for well over a month. Six weeks to be exact, six weeks since he-“Clarke!” Lexa urged once more, and suddenly all thirteen pairs of eyes watched her in questioning amusement.

“No.” She spoke, tone hushed but unwavering, eyes bouncing from face to face, finally stopping upon the one that mattered most. “Killing him is not justice. It is a disgrace.” She continued, gaze still addressing Lexa. “You promised him his freedom, Commander. He’s earned it! The crimes you list,” now looking to Titus, whom graced her with a scowl, “were crimes committed by his Mother, Queen Nia. Roan was a mere pawn. He is innocent!” 

Titus scoffed at the statement. “Innocent? And what of the countless threats he has made on Heda’s life! That alone is punishable by death!” More nods in agreement. “This man you fight to protect, Wanheda, is vile and vicious. He was born and bred in misery and hate, trained by the spirits to _kill_! Listen here child, and listen carefully.” This he spoke directly to Clarke, index finger outstretched and aimed at her chest. “No amount of rehabilitation can restore his soul. He is tainted! Helpless to defy his fate and that of his mother.” He now turned, facing Lexa once more. “And Costia? Is that to be erased from his list of crimes as well?”

Lexa braced. Eyes suddenly igniting with an emotion too surreal for Clarke to decipher. “Costia’s death occurred at the hands of Queen Nia.” Clarke interrupted, loud enough to silence the erupting murmurs. “The only thing Roan is guilty of is fulfilling his vow to the Commander! How is executing him for the crimes of his Mother justice?” 

“It is the way of war! The way of our people, now your people… or so you claim. Blood must have Blood, Klark, and he must pay for the sins of his nation! Just as Costia did for yours.” This last bit was spoken gently towards the Commander, a hint of guilt enveloped the phrase and delivered it to ears not ready to accept it. Lexa stood, and everyone in her presence followed suit. 

“Heda, the judgment is ultimately your responsibility. What is to be his fate?” Titus pressed, and immediately fell silent as he awaited her response. Clarke observed Lexa with pleading eyes, the tight skin between her brows furrowing in growing despair.

“Roan,” Lexa finally breached the silence, speaking to no one in particular, “sole heir and son of Nia, Queen of the Ice Nation, enemy of our people, is _guilty_ of participating in war crimes, whether directly or indirectly, against our people during a time of peace.” She paused, glancing briefly at a grief stricken Clarke, before continuing. “Therefore, I, Lexa, Commander of the twelve clans and leader of the Woods people, sentence him to death by hanging at first light tomorrow. May the spirits have mercy upon his soul.” 

Clarke felt nauseous, the room began to spin as the blood traveled to her head. “Lexa, no!” She protested, but her ears rang with such intensity that she herself did not hear the words leave her quacking lips. “Please, Lexa, he’s innocent! He’s done nothing wrong and yet now you punish him for the sins of his Mother!” 

“As her son he inherits her wrongdoings! The Commander has spoken. The decision is made.” Titus confirmed.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Clarke spat the words out at Lexa, who recoiled in sheer disbelief at Clarke’s outburst. “Next time you sentence an innocent man to death how about you grow a pair and tell it to his face!”

“That’s _enough_!” Lexa hissed, anger rising within her, mingling with the still pang of jealousy that never quite dissipated at the thought of Clarke and Roan. “My decision is final and you will do well to abide by it!” 

“Like _hell_ I do! This isn’t justice, this is vengeance!” The rage was overwhelmingly stronger than her self-control, and Clarke unleashed any remnants of restraint over to it, eyes blurry from the welling tears, tongue suddenly untamed and uncensored. “This is you abusing your authority to eliminate a guiltless man whose only crime was _fucking_ me…” Clarke screamed now, barely registering as a hand wrapped around her forearm and tugged her backwards and away from a stunned Commander. Lexa was immobile. Jaw slackened and eyes widened from shock. The well-kept secret now captured by the ears of all present. “What’s the matter, Lexa? Are you so afraid that I _liked_ it?” 

“SILENCE!” Lexa bellowed causing all sets of eyes with the exception of Clarke’s to immediately shift downward in respect and submission, shutting the blonde up with her fiery gaze. “You will _not_ speak out of turn again, is that understood?” Lexa scolded her, effectively transforming every bit into the Commander she was bred to be and suppressing the woman Clarke had come to love. “HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME! HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY MOTIVES AND INTENTIONS! YOU WILL LEARN TO SUBMIT TO YOUR COMMANDER, CLARKE, OR YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!” 

The air between them spiked in intensity. The scolding abated Clarke’s anger, resurfacing the original emotion that led her to this current situation -anguish. “Lex, please- _please_ , I beg you, don’t kill him! He was following your orders, my idea, _please_!” But Lexa was no longer present. The woman before her was the Commander, the law and the bringer of death; and she was pissed.

“I said _SILENCE, KLARK_!” Lexa ordered yet again, hands contracting into fists by her sides. 

“No!” She refused to be muzzled. “Please, Lexa, PLEASE… Don’t… For me, I’m begging you. DO it for ME, Lex!” She was sobbing now. Chest heaving, tears staining the floor around her feet. Lexa was still. Observing Clarke with such concentration it sent shivers coursing through her weakened body. Then Clarke watched as her hardened expression softened. She watched the woman she loved peak through from beneath the Commander curtain and stare right into her soul. She wanted to run to her then. To be enveloped by her strong arms like so many times before. She saw Lexa’s lips part slightly, and she thought this was it. Clarke had finally gotten through to her.

“You are dismissed. Leave my presence at once!” Lexa demanded, the steeled resolve reconquering, eyes that were momentarily warm and loving now resembled the coldness of a blade. “Guards! Escort Klark back to our quarters, where she is to remain until I say otherwise.” 

Clarke shook her head, still trying to understand the unexpected turn of events. “Lexa- you can’t return from this. It’s murder!”

Lexa shut her eyes, and when she opened them the earnest shade of green was overcome by abysmal black. “Leave. You are hereby banned from the council room until you learn discipline and to obey my requests.” It wasn’t a yell, but maybe it was the softness in her voice that made it all the more frightening. 

Clarke felt tears warm her cheek, and with a bow and pure resentment, she left. 

****

The moon, inflated into a perfect silver disk, hung high in the starless sky when Lexa finally appeared. Clarke lingered by the window, leaning against the frame and watching as its light bleached the land into a ghost-like replica of daytime. She wore a flimsy nightgown that clung favorably to her body, highlighting the luscious curves of her breasts and ass that was immediately noted by the Commanders weary eyes. 

“I had the servants bring you supper.” Clarke spoke softly, eyes seeking Lexa’s in the dim lighting. “It’s been placed on the table.” She glided towards the rigid figure, pausing inches away, fingers skillfully removing the belt around her waist.

“I owe you an apology…” Clarke said, finally untying the belt and removing the commander’s red sash draped over her shoulder. She then moved to undo the rest of her clothes. “For my behavior today. For what I said…”

“You publicly challenged me, Klark.” Lexa responded, voice hinting at the displeasure she felt. “Before all the ambassadors, before Titus, you purposefully humiliated me and tested my authority.”

Clarke did not halt her hands, but nodded her head in agreement, eyes lowering in demonstration of shame. 

“I love you, Klark…” Lexa continued. “But you will _not_ behave that way again. Am I clear?”

Clarke nodded in agreement once more, watching as the last piece of Lexa’s garments were removed. Without hesitating, she dropped to her knees before her, eyes never breaking contact as she lowered herself. “You wish for me to be more… obedient. Tonight I’ll prove to you that I can be…” She leaned into Lexa, her lips traced a path up the Commanders’ thigh, purposefully avoiding her sex as she kissed and licked around the area before plunging into the moist set of lips. Her tongue immediately found her clit, drawn to it like a moth to a flame, sucking it gently into her mouth. Lexa permitted it, seeing the act as not only a plea for forgiveness but a show of submission, which she always appreciated from the usually defiant woman. She laced her hand into the golden tresses, pulling Clarke closer to her, urging her tongue to travel lower. 

Lexa gasped, relishing in the feeling, watching as Clarke’s face delved deliciously into her cunt. “Are you sorry, my love?” She rasped, spreading her thighs a little more to allow Clarke better access. “I wish you could see how good you look like this… on your knees, begging for my mercy.” 

Clarke’s tongue increased its pace, pushing it into her opening as far as it would stretch, eagerly slurping the juices flowing from it. She felt the walls clench around her, indicating an orgasm she knew was on the precipice of occurring but would never know otherwise for Lexa was impeccably silent during climax; producing only soft groans and whimpers as she tumbled over the edge. Lexa tugged Clarke’s head away as soon as her muscles relaxed, lips stretching into a grin as she looked down at Clarke, her chin and lips glistening from her arousal. She swiped a finger around the corner of Clarke’s mouth, dragging it over to her lips which parted to allow entry. “That’s a good look on you…” Lexa husked, libido suddenly reigniting.

She hauled the blonde, hair still in her grasp, to the bed, on which she sat and after positioning Clarke once again on her knees before her, she spread her thighs. Clarke smirked, leaping in at the offering. By the fourth orgasm Lexa was drained, body sprawled on the bed, an arm dangled from the edge. Clarke stood, wiping her lips on the back of her hand, pulling furs over the drowsy Commander as she drifted into sleep. 

She crept into the bed beside her, and lounged until she heard only the sound of the wind howling beyond the steel wall. Her disorderly thoughts currently the loudest part of the night as she attempted to disentangle them in hopes of arriving at a better decision. But she knew there was no other option; she knew that to be true while she paced aimlessly in the room as the day faded, wanting to accept the charges but knowing that her conscience never would. She understood the difficult position Lexa was placed in, and part of her wanted to believe that her decision was not arrived at lightly. But the better part of her, the part that was attuned to Lexa’s inner person and spirit, the part that did not deal with reason but instead consisted of pure emotion, implied otherwise. So, after a few moments dedicated to reevaluating her decision and concluding they were fair, she waited. She waited in solemn bliss until all became silent and still. Waited until she heard soft purrs fall from Lexa’s lips. Waited until darkness had completely enveloped everything and everyone and until every flame had been extinguished from every candle. And then, very carefully, she moved. 

Leaving the room, a rucksack in hand, she treaded the corridors like a phantom, weaving and swerving past drowsy guards until finally arriving at the entrance to the stairs. She begins a grueling descent into impermeable darkness, climbing down the lengthy tunnel towards the forsaken dungeons long ago abandoned and avoided by most citizens of Polis; its inhabitants consisting of prisoners and scavenging rats. 

The musky tang in the air is a mix of dew and dust, making breathing a much more difficult task. It’s colder down here, Clarke notices as her body reacts in time with her thoughts, goosebumps coating her exposed skin. In the distance, she hears soft, skittish footfalls echo through the tunnels. She’s heard many rumors of ghouls and spirits that dwell in the underground; the souls of lives that once inhabited these lands before the world’s death, but dismissed the thought, associating the sounds to foraging pests. 

She moved carefully, noticing a dim, undulating gleam spilling on the murky ground around a corner. She expected there to be a few obstacles; yet upon rounding the corner she exhaled a sigh of relief at the sight that greeted her. There was a single guard positioned between her and the row of cells; which she knew were all empty but for one. The guard was currently distracted, crouching low, examining something in between his feet. His weapon lay discarded on the ground near him. Clarke wiggled out a loose brick, moderating her movement as to not alert the distracted guard, and once it was free, she moved forward. She stopped behind him, arms rising in preparation to deliver the blow. Her shadow must have been noticed, for the guard rotated his neck in her direction just before the clash, catching a mere glimpse of blonde hair before darkness took over. The brick made contact with his forehead instead of the back of his head as she had planned, but the end result was still the same she figured, watching as his body collapsed face-first from the knockout. 

“Sorry!” She whispered, moving past him and facing the cell. There, in the darkest corner of the cell; the part where no light appeared to infiltrate, Roan laid flat on his back, face pointed towards the ceiling. Even in the darkness she captures a glint in his eyes as it stares blankly into dismal abyss. He’s awake.

Removing the key from the guard’s girdle, she moves towards the entrance and unlocks the grate. He still does not budge and Clarke briefly wanders if he’s even breathing.

“Roan…Roan you have to go.” Clarke decides to cut to the chase. It’s nearly first light and time is a luxury they do not have to spare.

“Lexa is having you executed at first light. It’s going to happen, it’s been decided, so you have to escape.” She explained as best she could, unsure if this had all been a futile attempt for the man still did not move. She feared he was dead, decaying, possibly so for a few hours or days- 

“Leave me be.” He spoke, startling Clarke out of her thoughts. “Leave before you regret ever coming down here, girl.”

“You _will_ die if you stay. If you run now, you might have a chance!” She insisted, ignoring his warnings. “Go! Leave!”

He finally stood, so suddenly that Clarke took an involuntary step back. Stepping into the light, she gauzed his horrendous state, noting how the straps of clothes hung loosely to his much thinner form. Unshaven and probably, by the stench that seeped from him, unwashed since he was cast a prisoner. 

He moved closer, pulling open the creaking metal door and stepping out to where she stood, still transfixed in place by his appalling appearance. Fear began to creep in, heart accelerating as he approached, although weaker still much taller and surely much stronger than she was.

She continues to retreat, tossing him the rucksack in the process. “I packed you some supplies for your journey. It’s not much, but enough to sustain you until you’re well beyond the city wall.” She explained, watching him as he watched her, both analyzing the other. “There’s food, water and medicine. I couldn’t salvage your sword, but I was able to get your knife.”

That comment brought a sparkle to his glassy eyes. He opened the satchel, rummaging around the canteen of water, until his fingers found the familiar sturdy hilt of his favorite dagger. He withdrew it, needing to see if it was truly _it_ , eyes excitedly accessing the sharp blade- yielded from the hottest of flames and from the strongest of steel. Its hilt was his most preferred detail, carved from a section of bone extracted from his dead lover; the only true love he ever possessed. 

“Roan! You have to go NOW!” Clarke reminded, the shout springing him to action. 

Launching forward, he slammed his body against Clarke’s, in turn slamming her back against the brick wall behind her. Knife in hand, he lifted it to her throat and pressed, reminiscing on the moment her lover betrayed him in a much similar manner… how poetic, how intimately tragic would it be to _kill_ Lexa’s heart this way, he pondered. 

But he calmed his hand as another thought invaded his mind, causing him to lower his eyes to the source. His free hand, the one not holding the dagger to her throat, traveled south and lay questioningly on her stomach.

“Yes.” Was all she said, and it was all he required to understand. The subtle, but very present, bulge jutting from her belly confirmed the rest. 

Unable to contain it, he did not try to hide the single tear that escaped; unhampered by the fact that Clarke analyzed him with bewildered yet compassionate eyes. His one true wish, a singular desire he carried all his life, now a possibility since his lover’s passing. He’d willingly relinquish his birthright as future King, his inherited fortune, and his mother’s unmatchable legacy for this… for a second chance at a family and to redeem the name of Azgeda. His love, Echo, died far too young and far too innocent to provide him with a child. Since her, he never encountered anyone else worthy of taking her place, worthy of being loved and cherished in the ways a Queen should be. At least, he thought, not until Clarke. 

“You are making a mistake, Sky girl, letting me go.” He warned her, knife still against her neck but the pressure slackened. “Lexa will pay, I promise you that. I will return for her head, and once I have succeeded, I will claim what is _mine_.” 

He wasn’t sure if he was insinuating his return for the unborn child or for Clarke, or possibly both. But something stirred within him at the distant thought, of Clarke holding his future in the form of an infant within her docile arms, arms that would hold him in equal tenderness while he made love to her night after night. It was the warmest feeling he has had since being caged, since being sheathed inside her warm core under the jealous eyes of the commander. Roan leaned forward then, lips gently brushing Clarke’s, nose caressing hers as he tilted his head to one side. Clarke with no way to react froze in place, stiffening from distress at the advance she expected Roan to make. But then his weight lifted from her tense body, knife finally liberating her neck.

He tossed the rucksack over his broad shoulders, gaze still pinning Clarke in place against the cold wall, and with a single nod in her direction, he darted up the way from which Clarke had come. His essence, which still lingered on her skin, the only indication of his presence once the darkness engulfed him. 

A few moments later, although to a still dazed Clarke minutes appeared to have jumped into hours, she found herself climbing back in bed where a still slumbering Lexa slept, unaware and naïve to her whereabouts. She pulled furs over her shaking frame, an effort to relax the tense muscles, but it wasn’t the breeze that made her shiver. Past the open window, she could see the first traces of light cascading over the hills that scattered beyond, their rugged shape outlined perfectly in the brightening horizon. It’s almost time, she thought, mind imagining a scaffold waiting for its victim to arrive, or the blood-thirsty crowd chanting for death but neither receiving their request. 

Movements and hushed voices approached just outside the door. She sensed the hurried footsteps closing in, each one sending an eerie vibration through her.

Lexa would soon be awakened. She would soon learn the fate of their fortunate or unfortunate prisoner, depending on whether or not he managed to slip away unnoticed.

She took a breath, hearing the door rattle just before being pushed open. And she hoped, for an unknown reason she could not decipher, that Roan had made it over the walls of Polis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave Kudos/Comments! :)


	3. Checkmate - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick, explanatory chapter.... Chapter 4 will be long and crucial, so I had to take my time with it. Will be up in 1-2 days!
> 
> Things will take a slightly darker turn but do not fret! The story will get increasingly lighter and warmer with the arrival of the baby :)
> 
> Please feel free to complain/bitch/congratulate with comments and kudos.

“Heda, I apologize for the intrusion but you must come quickly!” Titus stormed into the room, startling Lexa from her sleep and causing her to sit up abruptly. His pale face suddenly flushing at seeing his Commander partially nude, leading him to bow his head in respect. “My apologies Heda, but it is urgent!”

“Speak, Titus!” She ordered, hair slightly tussled, hands shifting quickly to cover herself more properly. Clarke mimicked her perplexed movements, sitting upright and forcing her facial expressions to twist into innocent confusion.

“Commander, I mean no disrespect, but this is a conversation best divulged in private.” He looked from the Commander to Clarke, who seemed unsettled; concern and worry radiating from her ….and Titus hinted at something else; suspicion, he guessed. “It’s a sensitive matter and best delivered to your ears only.”

Lexa nodded, rushing to dress as Titus excused himself to wait for her down in the gathering room. Clarke rose and made her way over to her, helping her into her Commander gear and bringing Lexa her weapons, neither exchanging so much as a word or glance between them. Clarke wanted to tell her, to warn her of the news Titus would soon deliver, yet she couldn’t bring herself to do so. So instead she leaned forward and without any forewarning, drew Lexa into a soft, guilt-driven kiss.

“I love you…” Clarke whispered against her lips, nodding to confirm she really meant it.

Lexa smiled, pulling back to allow her a fuller view of Clarke while bringing up a finger to caress her blushing cheek. “I know… we will talk once I return.”

Clarke watched as she left, straining to take a mental portrait of that smile on Lexa’s face, knowing she may not be seeing it for a while once the Commander learned of what she had done…

Just as the doors closed, she heard a faint click lock them into place from the outside. “No one enters and no one leaves, understood?” Lexa ordered the men standing guard, an indirect warning delivered to the only person bold enough to challenge such orders. Without anything to do except wait, Clarke returned to bed and pulled the furs lazily over her head, wanting nothing more than to sleep away the remorse bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

***

When she arrived in the gathering room, Lexa found an agitated Titus pacing aimlessly in circles, mumbling to himself in the process. “Still your spirit, Titus, and tell me what you know.”

He paused, looking at her with grave eyes and flaring nostrils. “Roan has escaped, Heda.” He blurted, unable to hold it in any longer. “His cell was empty when the guards went to retrieve him this morning. The key was found still in the lock and the sentry guarding him had been knocked unconscious…”

He waited a moment to allow Lexa time to absorb the information. As usual, she appeared calm and unbothered, but the muscles tightening in her jaw told him otherwise.

“He had help, Commander.” Titus concluded. 

Lexa nodded, understanding the implication. “How many people know of this?” She asked, pulling both hands behind her back and strolling casually around the room.

“Myself, and the two guards who found his cell uninhabited.” Titus responded. “No one else, not any of the clan leaders…I can only imagine the chaos that would erupt if they knew.”

“Any witnesses? And the sentry that was knocked unconscious, is he talking?” Lexa pressed; mind racing to reach a solution before it was too late. 

“Yes, Heda, but he does not appear to be coherent at the moment. He claims he saw no one, only a shadow. He says it was the disturbed spirits that roam the underworld that dealt the blow, Heda. No witnesses have come forth with any information.” Titus confirmed, shaking his head. “But I have a suspect… the injured guard spoke of a shadow with glistening golden hair… Heda, forgive me if a trespass my boundaries, but this cannot be a coincidence. Only one person had a reason, a motive, to defy your orders and free the prisoner...”

Titus was gentle with his suspicions. Lexa noted the mild tone and apologetic eyes was for her benefit; to spare her unnecessary anger and hurt while trying to get her to see reason. She was grateful for it, although she would never admit it. But she understood because those same thoughts were at that very moment circulating in her mind.

“I thought the same, at first. But it is impossible.” Lexa replied, following his thoughts. “I would have known… Clarke is many things, but traitor …no.... She couldn't have.”

“Heda, you know the punishment for treachery… you know the dangers she faces. If this gets out, if people even suspect she's involved-“

“Then we make sure it doesn’t!” She cut him off. “She is with child, Titus! If people suspect the perpetrator is her, _two_ people will die! I will be helpless to intervene if there is a revolt.”

Her hands were shaking, a result of anger and fear, but she forced herself to regain control. “The two guards that found the empty cell…are they trustworthy?”

Titus nodded. “Yes, Heda, of course. They are my own men, and fully loyal to you. They will stay quiet or I will end their fights myself.”

Lexa moved towards the small balcony behind her throne, looking down to the ground below where the scaffold awaited and where curious spectators gathered in anticipation of the execution. The sound of drums reached the peak of the tower where she stood and she felt the vibrations travel from the sole of her feet and disperse to each strand of her hair; the rhythm of death pulsating gently through to her core.

“The guard responsible for keeping watch… he failed his duty to his people and Commander.” She spoke, even from the distance her eyes fixated on the dangling rope that swayed with the wind; as if beckoning its victim to come forward and meet his fate. She inhaled, eyes closing, and then turned to face Titus who stood a few feet behind her. “And for that reason, I sentence him to death by hanging. May the spirits be with him.”

Titus, rarely ever surprised, froze in place. He scanned Lexa’s face for any signs of hesitation or remorse, but he found none. He knew that desperation and love were the factors driving her to do this; to knowingly condemn an innocent and loyal man to death. He knew she had no other choice; that she would willingly exchange the lives of _all_ her subjects if it meant saving the one life she loved most. He cleared his throat and steadied his voice before speaking. "Yes, Heda. As you wish.”

“Make sure no one knows his identity. Dress him in rags and cover him in filth. Have the two guards that made the discovery bring him to the gallows in an hour.” Lexa continued, stepping away form the balcony and lowering herself to her throne. "The people demand blood...and blood they shall have."

Titus answered with silence. He was unsure whether to feel pride or pity for the girl who at that moment, in the midst of despair and confusion, looked rather young and innocent. “Heda, if Roan is found-“

“Send scouts to search the perimeter. If he is found, kill him on sight and burn him. I want all trace of him gone, Titus." Lexa ordered, hands gripping the armrest of her chair from fury. "I should have killed the bastard myself when I had the chance..." Lexa admitted, a confession she spoke mostly to herself than Titus. 

“Lexa, there’s another issue… A scout arrived this morning with information from the North. He says Queen Nia moves South with an army. He cannot confirm but it appears her intentions are to invade and conquer Polis.”

“Then gather the clan leaders, inform them of her intentions and urge them to raise their armies.” She countered, without even pausing to think. Lexa was numb, allowing the Commander within her to take full reign as she delegated orders, jumping over one hurdle at a time with incredulous ease. “Raise our own. Prepare our men and inform our people of the threat we face. We march against her at first light.”

“Yes, Heda. I’ll send word and prepare our warriors.” Titus responded, bowing obediently. “Heda?”

“Yes?”

“The child in her belly…” Titus hesitated, but pushed himself through the conversation, “will only be a legitimate heir once there are vows exchanged between you and Clarke. Only then, once there is a ceremony and a cleansing ritual, will the people truly accept the child as future Commander.”

This made Lexa pause for a minute; to take a moment to consider the uncertain future in store for Clarke and their unborn child, if Lexa was to fall in battle. Only two fates awaited her beloved if that was the outcome: slavery or death, or both. “It will be done once we return from battle.” Lexa’s tone was strong and firm, as if the possibility of falling in battle was nonexistent.

Titus bowed once again and motioned to leave, but stopped short when Lexa called back to him.

“I need you to prepare a few things for me.” Lexa said, giving him instructions and urging him to keep silent about it. She noticed the anguish in his eyes; the inner struggle that unfolded when she gave the orders, but Titus was loyal, and he accepted without uttering a word in protest. 

When he left, she took a moment to gather herself; to attempt to patch up the holes in her soul that appeared to be growing with each passing day. She pushed the thought aside after realizing that at this time tomorrow, she would have a new batch of holes to deal with.

***

The day, now transitioning into night, moved in slow motion. She barely registered the chanting crowd that cheered as the prisoner, head wrapped securely in a cloth and mouth taped beneath it, dropped to his death. She remembers speaking words to him… listing out his punishments and why he was being sentenced to such fate, and then she remembers saying his name… _Roan of Azgeda_ … right before the latch opened and he plunged to the afterlife.

She remembers it all so vividly, but the images playing in her head are jumbled, making it seem like a sick fantasy. The sound of doors unlocking brought her back to reality, and she saw as the two guards standing in front of the door moved aside for her to enter.

“Leave. Tonight there will be no need for guards or servants. I want the floor empty and no interruptions except for Titus. Is that understood?”

The men nodded and scattered in direction of the lift. Lexa waited just outside the bedroom door until the hum of the lift descending finally stilled. Then, heart in hand, she pushed open the doors to their bedroom and stepped into the dark, cold room.


	4. Checkmate - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Sexual Content Ahead.
> 
> Second Warning: Slightly Dark (will get lighter in upcoming chapters...maybe...the story is just taking me places and I'm rolling with it... All i can guarantee is CLEXA endgame.)
> 
> No, no one dies! Y'all can relax and find some chill.

The room was eerily silent. The echoing howls of wolves in the distance and the wailing wind could be faintly heard beyond the tower’s walls. Lexa moved to where the extinguished hearth resided, shifting the logs with a metal prod before tossing a burning match into it. The blaze that erupted was a welcoming sensation, warm and vivid, but it wasn’t enough to drive away the numbness she felt delicately cripple her.

She turned and saw Clarke, only the top of her head visible, lounging in the massive, bronze bathtub across the room.

“It is done.” Lexa spoke, enunciating each word as clearly and loudly as possible to ensure Clarke heard it. “His blood has been spilt and his debt has been settled. He dwells with the spirits now.”

Clarke remained still, and Lexa thought she had fallen asleep in the tub, but then she heard the water slush as Clarke slowly rose from within. The thin, white nightgown she wore was now transparent from the wetness, sticking to her frame like adhesive and left nothing to the imagination. When she moved closer into the light, Lexa noticed the redness that inflated her nose and the rim of her gloomy eyes; her face was puffy and her lips swollen. She had been crying.

“Roan is no longer a threat.” Lexa confirmed, tone as indifferent as her expressionless face, refusing to allow her Commander mask to falter in these tale-tale moments between them. “We are safe.”

Clarke moved closer, stopping only inches away from Lexa, her lips started to quiver and her nostrils flared. “Who did you kill?” She struggled to say, shutting her eyes the moment the question slipped past her lips, not wanting to see the hidden truth reflected back at her in Lexa’s darkening gaze. “Answer me!”

There. The confirmation Lexa _needed_ to hear. The strange feelings racing through her from the indirect confession were exceptionally agonizing, just as she suspected they would be. “Roan.” She said again, not ready to let go of the charade just yet. “Justice has bee- “

The sentence died on her lips because Clarke raised a hand and swung, palm landing directly on the brunettes’ lower jaw, whipping her head violently to the side. The sound that permeated the room in the immediate aftermath resembled that of a cracking bullwhip, causing both women to tremor from the ringing vibration that lingered in the now frigid air.

In all her years as Commander, _no one_ \- not her closest and most trustworthy advisers and counselors, not even Costia- had ever dared raise a hand towards her in a moment of anger or disaccord, much less strike her like some god forsaken _mongrel_. The incredulity of it all disarmed her only for a moment, and after recovering from the blow, she launched forward and shoved Clarke hard against the wall, pinning both her wrists above her head when Clarke started to struggle back.

“YOU _MURDERER_!” Clarke spat at her, and Lexa had to press her body against the blonde's to keep the woman still. “HOW _COULD_ YOU! WHO DID YOU KILL, LEXA, TELL ME?! WHO HAD TO _DIE_ IN ORDER FOR YOUR _FUCKING_ PRIDE TO BE SAVED, YOU FUCKING _COWARD_!”

Lexa inhaled before speaking, hoping the intake of air would still the lava bubbling in her stomach and ready to spew outwards, attempting to control the urge to reduce Clarke to her knees and force her into submission, willingly or not. “The man…that _YOU_ assaulted last _night_!” Lexa finally barked, both sets of chests rising and falling furiously where they pressed against the other. Clarke glared at her, attempting to free herself from her hold but failing; she was a fool to challenge Lexa’s superior strength over her own. “You let him go. You snuck from my bed, down to the dungeons, and let him _go_. You _deliberately_ disobeyed me. Made me look like a _fool_ and gave me no _choice_.” Lexa spat the words right back at her, furious and wounded, keeping her voice low but saturated with venom. “This death is _your_ doing.”

More tears flowed from Clarke’s eyes, and she shook her head at the accusation, refusing to accept responsibility. Lexa let her go then…upon seeing the resigned look on Clarke’s shattered face. “You put me, yourself, and everyone within these walls in danger! You preferred jeopardizing the life of our people, of our _CHILD_ , to save a man who would not hesitate to kill me had he the chance!” Lexa tried containing herself, but the rage was too overpowering. “What the _FUCK_ were you thinking, Clarke! He could have _killed_ you, stabbed you right in the belly and killed you both! Not to mention you consciously defied my orders! If you were _anyone_ else, you would be charred alive for such treachery!”

“I ONLY DID IT BECAUSE YOU WERE ACTING OUT OF SPITE! HE DID NOTHING WRONG, LEX-“

“I WAS ACTING AS A _LEADER_! I WAS REMOVING A THREAT TO OUR PEOPLE, TO _YOU_! AND YOU INTERVENED WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A THOUGHT TO WHAT DANGERS HE MIGHT BRING! HE MAY BE REUNITED WITH HIS MOTHER AS WE SPEAK, KLARK, POSSIBLY PLOTTING THE DEMISE OF POLIS AND MY DEATH! YOU ACTED OUT OF PLACE AND AS A RESULT, YOU HAVE PLACED ME IN A VERY DIFFICULT POSITION… “Lexa sighed, shaking her head, trying to steady the stream of quakes invading her body. “The people demanded blood… and I had no choice. It was either you or some stranger.” Lexa said, facing her with a pained look on her face, tears starting to fall from her eyes as well. “And I’ll always pick a stranger, or anyone, if it means saving you...”

It was now Clarke’s turn to launch forward, pressing her wet body flush against Lexa and pulling her into a bruising kiss. Lexa returned her kiss just as roughly, biting Clarke’s bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. Without breaking the kiss, Clarke’s hands worked hurriedly to undo Lexa’s belt and armor, pushing each piece off angrily, leaving scratches all over Lexa’s skin from where her nails raked carelessly. Once the clothes were removed, Clarke propelled Lexa back towards the table in the center of the room.

“Sit.” She instructed the Commander, tone harsh and imposing. Lexa considered this for a moment, realizing this wasn’t so much about sex as it was about power and control for Clarke. It was under her orders that Clarke had been imprisoned in their own bedroom from dawn to dusk, helpless to do anything other than hear the shouts and cries of the blood-thirsty citizens below as an innocent man was smothered to death. Lexa pitied her then, seeing the anger and guilt that were so transparently present in Clarke’s ravenous gaze. Lexa wanted to yield, but the rage was still very much corroding through her veins and spilling into every area of her body. “I said, _sit_!”

Almost instinctively, Lexa reached forward and grabbed the blonde by her throat. She squeezed her hand in a warning as she pulled her closer, bringing their noses close enough to graze one another.

“You don’t give me orders, Klark.” Lexa snarled, squeezing her hand a little harder for emphasis and drawing a soft moan out of the blonde. “Not when we _fuck_ and not anywhere else, do you understand?”

Clarke smirked in response, tongue darting out to slowly lick the length of her suddenly dry lips, watching Lexa’s eyes following her tongue as she traced them seductively. Clarke’s eyes swiftly transitioned from anger to playfulness; ready to test Lexa’s ability to resist her. “We shall see about that, _Heda_ …” she rasped, pushing forward into Lexa’s hand to bring their bodies even closer, so close she could feel Lexa’s warm breath spill against her parted lips. Using two fingers, Clarke began to trace a sluggish path starting midway up Lexa’s right thigh to the apex in between her legs. She leisurely spread the glistening lips, dipping her fingertips into the warm slickness.

Lexa held her breath, trying to suffocate the moan ready to escape, suppressing the urge to grind her cunt down against the delicious touch. Her fingers tightened around Clarke’s neck, but it only made the blonde grin wider in recognition of what her touch was doing to her Commander. Lexa braced herself, ready for Clarke to enter her. Only Clarke never did. Instead, eyes never disconnecting from Lexa’s, she brought her fingers up to her tongue, a mischievous smile still firmly in place, and licked up Lexa’s taste while inhaling her musky essence.

Lexa watched transfixed, mouth agape and body throbbing in urgent need. The hand she had around Clarke’s throat relaxing slightly when she felt the muscles move underneath her palm as Clarke swallowed her down, closing her eyes and purring in the process. Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she sprung forward, both hands latching onto each side of Clarke’s face and pulled her into a savage, almost violent kiss. Clarke pressed her body into the Commander’s, both sets of breasts rubbing into the other separated only by the thin nightgown, nipples erect and chafing as their bodies molded. Clarke pushed Lexa back, bodies never detaching and lips never parting, until Lexa finally relented and propped herself on the edge of the table.

Only then did the blonde remove her mouth from Lexa’s with a victorious grin and moved downwards, planting bites and kisses down Lexa’s neck and breasts before moving south to her flexing stomach, stopping for a moment at her navel to dip her tongue into the hole and swirl it around playfully. She moved lower still, tongue stretched to capacity as it traced the curves of pronounced abs towards Lexa’s pelvis. Her mouth hovered over the patch of unruly hair that indicated her arrival at her lover’s sex, teeth sinking into the fuzz and stretching the curls, causing Lexa to whelp at the delicious pain. Lexa’s hand positioned itself atop Clarke’s head, pulling the golden tresses up until their eyes met.

“On your knees, Clarke.” Lexa ordered, pushing her down until she heard Clarke’s knees make contact with the floor below. “I need that _filthy_ little mouth of yours…”

With a smirk, Clarke obliged, diving into the spread, gleaming slit presented to her, slurping up the wetness pouring out of the commander in keen admiration. It was a sight she had always enjoyed witnessing; marveling at the control exuded by Lexa even as she climaxed, releasing only soft whimpers to indicate she was close. Clarke pressed her tongue deep into Lexa’s entrance, collecting as much of her taste as she could gather as the muscle swiveled in the heat. Lexa tightened her grip on Clarke, thighs clenching around her head, her own rolling back from the cresting ecstasy. Clarke stilled her tongue for a nanosecond, long enough to slip a single finger into the tightening tunnel, immediately locating the rough patch she aimed for. A few thrusts of her finger and flicks of her skilled tongue was all it would take to have the commander unraveling at her touch.

Lexa fought the urge. She did not want to come undone so quickly; so _easily_ after such a heated argument. She realized how close she was to tumbling over the edge- sprawled on her back, legs parted wide open and draped over Clarke’s shoulders as the blonde licked her clean; one hand firmly latched onto blonde curls and the other gripping the edge of the wooden surface with such force her knuckles whitened. At some point during their passionate tangle, Lexa knocked over the fruit bowl at the center of the table, sending its contents to scatter about the floor. As her own need began to burst at the seams, she conjured an image of Clarke, in a similar pose, coming undone- not once, not twice, but _three_ times- under Roan’s lengthy member. She cringed as a searing jolt looped through her that was completely isolated from the rising pleasure.

She pulled Clarke up roughly by the roots of her hair, swiftly sliding from the table and reversing them so that she now stood behind the blonde.

“ _OW_! Lexa, what the _hell_!” Clarke protested, hands shooting up to her head in an attempt to relieve the pain, confused as to why she was being interrupted.

“I counted how many times you came while he _fucked_ you, you know.” Lexa whispered heatedly into her ear, tugging her head back to seize her attention. “ _Three_ times, _Klark_!” She hissed, reaching around with her free hand to squeeze one of Clarke’s breasts, causing the blonde to gasp and curse at the harshness but Clarke dared not utter a word in protest. “I’m pretty sure I can surpass that record, don’t you?”

With those words lingering in the suddenly electrifying air between them, Lexa bent her over the table roughly, pushing her forward enough to where her toes barely grazed the floor. Still holding her down by her head, she grasped the edge of the blonde’s nightgown and jerked her hand down, ripping the still soaked material to shreds and tossing it aside. Once bare, Lexa softly stroked her hand down the length of Clarke’s spine, worshiping the perfect curvature and pronounced muscles that appeared sculpted in the flickering fire-light. Her palm finally rounded the plump flesh that jutted up in excitement, presenting itself to Lexa as a treasure to claim.

“Who do you belong to, Klark?” She queried, eyes still fixed on the perfectly round globes that pressed back against her hips. Clarke moaned, knees suddenly weakening at the low, feral tone stemming from Lexa.

“You, my love.” Clarke responded breathily, air suddenly more challenging to manage. “Only you.”

Lexa grinned at the confession, secretly delighted at how quickly Clarke submitted to her, something that was almost impossible to arrive at during the early stages of their intimate relationship. Lexa withdrew her wandering hand, allowing it to hover over the flesh before delivering a firm, open palm blow to the creamy complexion. Clarke was launched forward at the impact, moaning loudly in surprise at being reprimanded.

On any other occasion, Lexa ran the risk of losing her hand at the blunt display of power over the blonde, yet Clarke bit her tongue and swallowed her objections, fully aware of Lexa’s need to punish and remind her of her place. Intrigued, Lexa repeated the action, delivering a blow more forceful this time; a perfect imprint beginning to appear on the tender flesh. This time, the blow was intended to _hurt_.

“Lexa…” Clarke whispered hazily, an attempt at a warning but resembling more of a pleading whimper. Lexa ignored it, surrendering completely to the anger and jealousy that she had been suppressing for weeks now. It was suddenly too much to bear; too much to attempt to understand. And all at once, like a dam that has been breached, it all came flowing out of her.

She brought her hand down _HARD_ on the pink flesh yet again; the stinging on her palm and the cry that tore out of Clarke was a good signal that the blow had been overly aggressive, yet she did not care. She weaved her hand through Clarke’s hair once more and _yanked_ , slipping her hand down to her dripping heat while leaning forward to bring her lips closer to her ear. “Who do you _belong_ to, Klark?” She repeated the question, sinking her teeth into Clarke’s shoulder and clenching her jaw around the skin while teasing the sobbing blonde with a finger. She felt the blonde squirm under her, breaths coming out ragged and faster. “Who does this cunt belong to, princess?” Lexa’s voice was delivered as a low grumble, causing Clarke’s body to tremor and her walls to spasm in need. Lexa increased her pace; the need to stake a claim rising within her, and she was determined to tame her disobedient lover one way or another.

“You, Heda…” Clarke moaned out, teeth sinking into her bottom lip from Lexa’s painfully hesitant fingers. “Commander… _Please_ …”

Lexa maintained her pace and pulled Clarke towards her, her hair still in her grip, watching hungrily as her back curved expertly backwards. “You’re _mine_ , Klark. _All_ of you. You’d be wise to remember that, _Wanheda_.” She hissed, plunging three fingers into the fluttering tunnel without notice and quickly starting a ruthless pace. She pushed Clarke forward once again, pinning her down with a hand in between her shoulder blades, and relinquished control over to her carnal desires and instincts that _screamed_ at her to _ravage_ the woman.

Clarke’s moans soon filled the room, urging Lexa to only increase her pace. Lexa used her hips to drive her fingers deeper into Clarke, refusing to slow or pull out even as she felt the walls flutter and clasp down around her digits, felt the woman beneath her tense and yell from pleasure, and shortly after her decreasing climax, beg Lexa to slow due to sensitivity. Lexa was too immersed to reel herself in, and ignored her pleas; choosing instead to continue to _take_ her, to _fill_ her, to _punish_ her. The number of orgasms Clarke achieved was soon lost on both of them; and Lexa grinned breathlessly in silent victory, satisfied at accomplishing her self-imposed task of properly and thoroughly _fucking_ Clarke until she was reduced to a whimpering mess.

Clarke was sobbing when she finally came down from her high; her tears stained the surface of the wooden table beneath her. It took Lexa a moment to push aside the anger that had taken over and return to herself, her fingers still buried to her knuckles inside Clarke, before she recognized the words dripping from Clarke’s quivering lips.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” she mumbled softly, on and on, as if speaking as many of them as she could would make Lexa forgive and forget. Lexa withdrew her hand slowly, fingers drenched in Clarke’s arousal, suppressing the urge to inhale and taste every single drop of it. She knew that moment had passed; that they had entered the blissful, post-sex moment that requires tenderness and care. She leaned forward, scattering hot, gentle kisses all across Clarke’s back, kissing as far down as her tailbone before redirecting up to the base of her neck.

The whimpers and soft sobs continued, and Lexa knew it was the guilt pouring out of Clarke and the realization that she was helpless to change any of it. Her heart softened at seeing Clarke so raw and vulnerable, shivering against the table, the burden of the past weeks weighing heavily on her.

Lexa shifted her gently, as carefully as possible as though she might break, until they faced one another. She then scooped her up into her arms and Clarke wrapped her arms instinctively around her, burying her face into the crook of her neck, as Lexa carried and lowered her onto the couch facing the fire. Lexa carefully slipped behind Clarke and pulled furs over them, drawing the still shaking blonde as close to her as possible. They laid there in silence for a while, both women staring at the hungry, swiveling flames ahead as it gradually sent them into a hypnotic limbo of sorts.

Lexa shifted slightly behind her and Clarke felt a hand run through her hair, gently pulling it free from her face, and then run down the length of her arm. “I forgive you. I love you and I forgive you. I always will, Clarke.” Lexa breathed into her ear, sending delicious shivers down Clarke’s body and forcing her to close her eyes in relief.

Clarke rolled to face her, both women presenting the other with their own magnificent smile, all teeth and swollen lips, eyes equally loving and saturated with emotions. “I love you…more than anything and anyone, Lex. This here,” Clarke brought lexa’s hand down to her stomach, where the small bulge rested, “is yours.” She smiled again, watching Lexa swallow heavily at the statement, blinking fast in an effort to push away the burning in her eyes. “And this here,” Clarke brought Lexa’s hand up and placed it right above her left breast, where her heart pumped fast and furiously, “is also yours... and will be always and forever.”

Lexa could only nod, feeling lost in a pool of emotions that started to overwhelm her, trying desperately to swallow the painful knot in her throat. Clarke stood then, walking briskly over to the raging fire and placing a second metal shaft directly in the embers.

“I know you’ve questioned my loyalty and love recently,” She spoke, back still to Lexa who remained on the couch watching her naked lover as she leaned towards the fire, “and you’ve had every reason, I understand that. But, I never want you to feel like I don’t love you, or that you’re not enough. Because you are, Lex. You always have been.” She turned to face her, a loving smile appearing on her face. “And I want to prove it to you…” returning her gaze to the fire, she pulled the metal shaft away, turning to show Lexa the bright, sizzling end where the fire had touched. “I want your mark on me… I want you to claim me so that everyone knows I am yours and only yours.”

Lexa’s eyes widened and she rose, strolling over to Clarke where she still stood by the fire. “I know that, and that is enough for me, Klark. This is not necessary… this is not what I want from you-“

“I know, I know. But I want it…” She shoved the metal into Lexa’s hand, looking up to her with a pleading stare that made Lexa’s knees falter.

“What if it hurts the baby… it could be risky and-“

“I can handle pain, Lex. The baby will be fine, I promise.” She pressed herself into Lexa, face once again hiding into her neck, moving her hair out of the way and exposing her left shoulder blade. “Please…”

Lexa looked at the still glowing end. She considered the idea a moment, unsure why Clarke wanted her mark branded permanently on her skin, something Lexa never requested of her. Yet part of her understood it completely. She dipped the end into the fire for a few more seconds.

“It’s ok, Lexa, I can handle it…” Clarke assured her, pulling her closer and burying her face deeper into her neck. With her free arm, Lexa wrapped it around her neck, the inside of her elbow resting just underneath her nape to keep her from moving. She felt Clarke stiffen in preparation for it, nails digging into her lower back hard enough to breach the skin.

“You’re sure?” Lexa asked again, not sure if was her or Clarke who needed confirmation.

“Just do it already!” Clarke ordered, a little frustrated that she was dragging this out.

Lexa smiled and brought the glowing end up, lining it up with the exposed shoulder blade. Once it was perfectly aligned, she made sure her grip on it was firm, and slowly as to not shake, she moved it forward and pressed the end to Clarke’s skin. She felt the blonde gasp and shudder in her arms, a soft yelp escaped her lips, sending vibrations up her neck. Lexa held her firmly in place, making sure to hold the metal against the skin a few seconds more before retracting it and tossing it back into the fire. The stench of burning flesh was strong, and lexa moved, towing clarke with her who still shuddered, to the table. She picked up the jug of water and poured it over the burn, causing Clarke’s back to curve backwards and away from the stinging pain.

“Shhhh, it’s done. It’s done.” Lexa shushed her, feeling Clarke relax a little in her arms. She analyzed her work, silently impressed with how perfectly the gear-shaped symbol was embedded into her skin. She faced Clarke, using a finger to lift her chin up. Even through the flash of discomfort that resided on her face and twisted her features into a grimace, Clarke still curved her lips into a smile as their eyes met, parting them in expectation of a kiss when she saw Lexa’s head dip. But their lips never joined.

A rapping on the door startled both women out of their intimate moment. Clarke was puzzled, noting the unusual time to be receiving visitors. She looked to Lexa, expecting a similar reaction, but the brunette was oddly calm. Lexa gave her a faded smile, and Clarke thought she noticed _something_ cause her features to darken, but it quickly vanished as she pulled away.

“One moment.” She sat Clarke down on the table’s bench, rushing to retrieve two silk robes from their wardrobe. She wrapped herself in one and Clarke in the other, then rushed to open the door.

It was Titus. He entered the room and bowed to both women in a demonstration of respect. “Evening, Heda. Clarke.” Clarke nodded in his direction, still failing to comprehend his reason for disturbing them. He carried a tray with two cups and a teapot in his hands, and placed it carefully on the table.

“I apologize for interrupting you, Heda. I have not yet received any news from the scouts. I will inform you as soon as they return.”

Lexa nodded and thanked him, walking him out to the lift. When she returned, she poured the tea into the ceramic cups, handing one to Clarke.

“I ordered Titus to update me before he retreated for the night. Here, drink. It will help soothe the pain.” Lexa smiled. Clarke gratefully accepted and sipped it slowly, wincing every now and then when the robe chafed against the burn, but it was a strangely welcoming kind of pain she admitted. She caught Lexa watching her closely from the corner of her eyes.

“What?” Clarke asked playfully.

“Nothing, sorry… you’re just beautiful, Clarke.” Lexa saw her blush and try to cover the smile forming on her face by bringing the cup to her lips once more. “I love you… I really hope you know and remember that.”

Clarke finished her tea, setting the cup down and glanced at Lexa with adoring eyes. She opened her mouth to return the same admiration and tenderness but suddenly froze. Something was wrong. She tried speaking but the words would not form because her tongue was suddenly limp, her vision started to blur, and she felt a wave of panic start to wash over her. She blinked a few times, trying to shake it off, but the corners only darkened, and soon her body felt heavy and numb. She slumped forward, unable to keep herself up any longer, only to be caught by Lexa’s strong arms.

“Shh… don’t fight it. Don’t fight it, my love.” Lexa whispered, pulling her into her arms and cooing her, chin and lips pressing down against her golden hair as she cradled Clarke. “Please…forgive me, but you left me no choice…

“Lex.. what…l-“ Clarke managed to huff out, feeling her body further disconnect from her foggy mind. She latched on to the details of what followed: Lexa’s tea cup full and untouched; the calmness in Lexa’s voice; Titus reappearing into her line of sight, leaning towards her and examining her carefully; Lexa speaking to him and him nodding…

The darkness was becoming more and more profound. Clarke wanted to scream, to kick and punch, but that small part of her that remained alert throughout the haunting ordeal was trapped and quickly silenced. Her whole body was slowly collapsing within itself, bit by bit and piece by piece. She watched Lexa lean forward and place a gentle kiss on her lips, yet she felt or heard nothing; her lips, her tongue, her whole body was paralyzed. She became even more frantic when Titus scooted her up from Lexa’s arms, body now completely irresponsive and flaccid. He carried her towards the door and just before she succumbed to the darkness, she caught sight of Lexa, still sitting in the same place…

with fresh tears streaming down her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** GASP*** 
> 
> Tune in next week for Chapter 5!
> 
> Ok, I'm ready to be crucified now... do. your. worst FANDOM!


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